


How to Obtain a Child: Blow up a Bank, Rescue Child From Destroyed Bathroom, and Train Him to be in the Army

by Protecting_Stars



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Explosions, Forced Unplanned adoption, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Oh look more explosions, Patryk and Paul are mother hens kinda, Patryk is worried about his child, Red Army, Small Bomb, Swearing, That "oh shit" moment when you realize your child isnt where you left them, There needs to be less of those
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:46:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11572593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Protecting_Stars/pseuds/Protecting_Stars
Summary: I was bored and I recently got into Eddsworld, have this.





	1. How much of this is even legal? None of it.

“Why did Boss send us on this mission? We’re pretty much the youngest ones at base, and we could die. Would he really let us die? What’s the mission again?”

Patryk mentally facepalmed at Paul's questions. 

“Why do you ask so many questions, I’ve already explained this all to you; we go in the bank, act like we’re asking about a loan, plant the bomb under the edge of the desk, wait for it to detonate, get into the vault, and take the hard drive. Simple shit, stop asking.”

“Why attack a bank in Norway though?”

“Paul, shut the fuck up.”

“Pat, I don’t even speak Norwegian.”

“I do, now please be quiet or I’m driving this car into a ditch.”

Paul rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette box and a lighter. He lit a cigarette and put the end between his lip, then put the box and lighter away.

“You know, I wish you wouldn’t smoke, you’re nineteen and you probably already have lung cancer.” Patryk sighed and rolled down a window so he wouldn’t inhale the smoke. Paul chuckled.

“You’re nineteen too. And it’s not like it matters, we’ve been risking our lives for the past year. We could die today you know.” He looked out the window for the rest of the ride, and neither of them talked. They both knew they had a fifty percent chance of dying, thus failing the mission, or narrowly escaping with the hard drive. They didn’t know what was on it, just that Boss wanted it.

When they pulled into the parking lot, they both took a moment to let what they were about to do sink in. Patryk’s hand shook a little as he felt the small bomb in his pocket.

Please let there be as little people as possible in there.

As if Paul knew what he was thinking, he reached over and placed his hand on Patryk’s.

“It’ll be fine, we’ll get this done quick. Let’s go.” Patryk glanced at his friend as he got out of the car; he looked scared, but determined. If one was doing something, the other would do it too, that’s how they worked.

Patryk opened his door and followed Paul to the building.

When they entered, Patryk looked around. There were four people, not counting the two men, in the bank. Two bankers, a young woman, and her small son, who looked to be only four or five.

Patryk looked like he was about to bolt out of there and abandon the mission, and Paul looked like he was trying his best to just ignore all the people in the building.

“So we’re really doing this?” Patryk whispered to Paul.

“We’re doing this.”

***

Tord did not want to be in the bank. He was tired and hungry, and he didn’t know why money was important. Why couldn’t they just have what they needed, or everybody have the same things?

“Mor, jeg vil gå hjem.”

Mother, I want to go home.

“Tord, vent litt, vi er nesten ferdige.”

Tord, please wait a little longer, we are almost done.

“Mor, jeg trenger å bruke på badet.”

Mother, I need to use the bathroom.

“Så gå, de er rett der borte, jeg kommer til å være her når du kommer tilbake.”

Then go, they’re right over there, I will be here when you get back.

Tord huffed and turned to the sign pointing to the bathrooms, then he noticed the two men talking with the other banker. 

The taller one with long hair was doing the actual talking, and was fiddling with something in his pocket. The other shorter one stood behind him, though was facing away from Tord, so he couldn’t see his face or any distinctive features, though he had a nervous posture, Tord noted. Then he noticed the long haired one took the thing out of his pocket. It was something metal, that much Tord knew, but he didn’t know what it was. 

Tord tilted his head a little as the man put the metal thing on the side of the bankers table, and a small blinking red light appeared on it. The shorter man had turned around then, (distinctive feature: eyebrows, Tord noted) and gave Tord a small nervous smile to him when he noticed him looking. A minute later, the two men finished talking to the banker and left.

The red light had started blinking a little faster, and Tord turned back to his mother.

“Mor, de to mennene forlot noe på bordet, jeg vet ikke hva det er.”

Mother, those two men left something on the table, I don’t know what it is.

“Det er nok bare en telefon, de kommer tilbake for å få det snart. Nå bruk badet.”

It’s probably just a phone, they’ll come back to get it soon. Now go use the bathroom.

Tord cast a cautious glance at the metal thing, but went to the bathroom anyways. A minute later, Tord heard a loud explosion, and fell to the floor when the force of it hit him, knocking him out for a moment.

***

Paul and Patryk covered their ears as fire burst out of the door behind them and knocked them to the ground.

“Paul, let’s go! We have to get the hard drive!” Patryk scrambled to his feet and held a hand out to Paul, who accepted the offered hand and pulled himself up. Both men turned and ran back into the building. Patryk knew they had less than five minutes to get the hard drive and run.

Once in the building, Paul jumped over what remained of the bankers counter and some patches of burning wood, ignoring the three bodies (where was the fourth?) that the bomb had killed, and ran down the hall to the basement door, where the vault was kept.

“Pat, hold off the police when they arrive! I’ll be back up in less than two minutes!” And with that, Paul descended down the stairs while Patryk pulled out his gun and sat behind a crumbled pillar.

Paul please hurry.

Patryk repeated the small prayer in his mind, then stopped when he heard crying somewhere in the ruined building.

Son of a bitch the kid is still here and alive.

Patryk didn’t know if he should feel glad or terrified. He couldn’t just leave the kid! He knew he shouldn't do it, but Patryk stood up and looked around till he located where the kid was: the bathroom. The walls had been destroyed mostly, and he could see a small figure in a red hoodie sitting on the floor pushing at something.

Despite the fallen and burning ceiling beams, Patryk covered his mouth and nose with his shirt before making a run for the bathroom.

***

When Tord woke from his short “nap”, he immediately realized that his leg was in a lot of pain. Not a scraped knee kind of pain, a “my leg is being crushed by a chunk of a brick wall” kind of pain. Tord then started crying.

“Mor, hvor er du, vær så snill, hjelp meg!”

Mother, where are you, please, help me!

He pushed for a second at the bricks, vision blurred by tears, but stopped as the pain only worsened and made him cry out. He could see his blood soaking through his jeans and into the floor. He didn’t like seeing the blood, it scared him. His eyes burned from the smoke coming through the burned down door and destroyed wall, and he felt like the only thing he could do was cry more, but he choked back a sob when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Tord looked to see who it was, and was only mildly surprised when he saw it was one of the men from earlier.

“Jeg beklager, dette vil skade.”

I’m sorry, this will hurt.

Tord gasped when the man grabbed the chunk of brick on his leg, then screamed slightly when he pulled the bricks off. The pain was too much, and Tord fainted again when the man lifted him into his arms.

***

Paul didn’t know how to react when he came out of the hall and saw Patryk standing next to the exit and holding the child he saw looking at them earlier in his arms.

“Patryk, what the hell! Why did you grab the kid?”

“We can’t just leave him! His mom is dead, he’s hurt, and if we wait for an ambulance, the police will get us! We have to leave with him!” Paul looked like he was about to object before Patryk grabs his arm and pulls him out the door to the car.

“Did you get the hard drive?” Patryk asks as he sets the child in the back seat.

“Yes, now shut up and drive.” Paul slides into the passenger seat and reaches over to start the car.

“What will Boss even say about him?” Paul points to the backseat while Patryk drives the car out if the seat, looking in the rearview mirror to see the flashing lights of police cars down the street, far enough that their car could have looked like it was pulling out of some other parking lot hopefully.

“I don’t know, but we’ll work something out. We have to get back to base and get his leg checked out though before we talk to Boss.” Paul groans at this.

“He’ll want the hard drive the second we get back. How about, since you’re the one that cares more about him, you take him to the med bay, and I’ll take care of the hard drive.”

“Alright, that works.” The car is silent for a moment before Paul speaks again.

“Somebody probably saw us drive away from the bank you know. We’ll have to get rid of the car.”

“We’re sticking with this car, if anybody follows us, they’ll be shot before they reach the gates.”

“Still, what if-”

“Paul.”

“Just saying!”

***

Waking up, Tord realized that he had no idea where he was. Where was his mother? What happened to the men from the bank? Why did he feel so tired and sick? Why did everything hurt?

As he looked around, he realized he was in a hospital-like room. It was hastily put together, makeshift almost. Tord looked down at his leg, which was heavily wrapped in bandages, with something harder underneath.

At this point, he was scared and about to cry again.

“Mor?” 

Mother?

His call received no answer.

By now, he wasn’t able to hold back his tears, and as he lay down in a tight ball, he heard footsteps and voices somewhere outside the room he was in.

“I don’t care if you have to get rid of me, I’m not going to leave this kid! We killed his mother, the least I can do for him is take care of and raise him! Fire me or don’t, I’m keeping him.”

“Patryk, I don’t want a fucking gremlin running around base and distracting other soldiers from their training! If you talk some sense into the kid and lay down the rules for him, I’ll be generous and allow him to train as a soldier when he’s older. But until he turns nine, you keep him out of the way, he will be your second priority, your training is more important.”

“But sir-”

“No buts! Do you understand what you are to do?”

“...Yes sir.”

What were they saying? Tord didn’t speak their language, only Norwegian.

He gasped and pulled his blankets over himself as the door opened, and somebody walked in.

“Kid? Det er ok, vær så snill, kom ut.”

Kid? It’s alright, please, come out.

Tord recognized the voice as the long haired man, and he peaked his eyes out from the blankets, sobs quieting to small hiccups.

“Hvor er jeg?”

Where am I?

The man walked over to the end of the bed and sat down.

“Du er i medisinske bukten i Røde Hæren, benet ditt hadde flere brudd i beinet, og du trengte sømmer for noen kutt du fikk fra mursteinene i bankens bad. Annet enn det, vil du ha det bra.”

You're at the medical bay in the Red Army base, your leg had several fractures in the bone and you needed stitches for some cuts you got from the bricks in the bank's bathroom. Other than that, you'll be fine.

“Hvor er min mor?”

Where is my mother?

“Vel, din mor var ikke i stand til å komme med oss. Hun hadde viktige ting å gjøre, og hun ville at min venn og jeg skulle ta vare på deg.”

Well, your mother was not able to come with us. She had important things to do and wanted my friend and I to take care of you.

“Er din venn den med øyenbrynene?”

Is your friend the one with the eyebrows?

Patryk snorted and laughed at the question.

“Ja, han heter Paul, jeg er Patryk, nå hvem er du?”

Yes, his name is Paul, I’m Patryk, now who are you?

Tord looked unsure of the question. His mother told him not to tell strangers his name, but she wasn’t here to remind him of that.

“Jeg er Tord.”

I am Tord.

Patryk hummed in acknowledgement. It wasn’t a name he had heard before, but he liked it.

“Is the kid awake yet? How's his leg?” Tord turned his head as Patryks friend (Paul, he recalled) stepped into the room.

“Yeah, his name is Tord, doc says his leg will heal nicely. I don’t think he can speak English though. Tord, snakker du engelsk?”

Do you speak English?

“Jeg hørte noen ord mor fortalte meg ikke å si mens i butikken en dag.”

I heard some words mother told me not to say while at the store one day.

“Hvilke ord?”

What words?

“Go fuck yourself.” Paul burst out laughing while Patryk just stared in shock at Tord.

“Holy shit Pat, we have to keep him now!”


	2. Let's agree to get into less explosions, ok? Because at one point this kid will probably hold an active bomb and just accept that it will explode, killing everyone in the room instantly.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the number of times Ive been in a military base (kinda), i will never know the shorter and more efficient name for "sleeping quarters" or the building theyre in. Rec hall? Who the hell knows

After only a week, Tord had gotten restless laying in a hospital bed all day, and instead had either Paul or Patryk carry him around the facility. During training, he would sit and watch, occasionally mimicking some of the soldiers. It was fun, Tord thought. Though they wouldn’t let him near the gun range. Patryk said something about the possibility of the guns damaging Tords hearing because of how young he was. Tord didn’t know why that mattered, Paul and Pat got to use the guns without worrying about their hearing, but he stayed in the sleeping quarters during that time anyways.

 

Other than that, most days were fine. His leg still hurt, but he could deal with the pain. During meals, Tord would sit between Paul and Patryk, who would talk and laugh with the other soldiers, while Tord remained silent and ate whatever they gave him. A lot of the soldiers intimidated him, so when he finished his meal, he would limp (he hated using the crutches he was given, and a wheelchair was just hart to maneuver considering how small he was) off to different parts of the facility. Tord liked going outside to watch the planes take off and land. Then Paul and Patryk would find him and carry him off to wherever training would be next.

 

At the end of the day, Patryk would have to drag Tord kicking and screaming to bed before placing him on the top half of their bunk (Paul used to sleep on the top half, but started sleeping with Patryk on the bottom half once Tord arrived- not that either of them minded at all). The grumpiness about having to go to bed was usually because Tord was very tired, and he always fell asleep minutes after he placed his head on the pillow. On the nights it was easy to get him into bed, Tord always asked Patryk the same question.

 

“Når kommer mor tilbake?”

 

_ When will mother come back? _

 

“Ikke lenge, gå deg til sengs, du vil ikke være trøtt i morgen, gjør du?”

 

_ Not for a long time, now go to sleep, you don’t want to be tired tomorrow, do you?” _

 

Usually that was the last conversation of the night, but tonight sparked a different question.

 

“Pat, er du og Paul mine fedre nå?”

 

_ Pat, are you and Paul my fathers now? _

 

Patryk couldn’t hide his surprise at this question. He stared at Tord for a moment while he thought of a response.

 

“Vel, det avhenger. Ser du oss som dine fedre?”

 

_ Well, that depends. Do you see us as your fathers? _

 

Tord grinned and nodded.

 

“Ja, du og Paul tar vare på meg som mor gjorde!”

 

_ Yes, you and Paul take care of me like mother did!” _

 

Patryk laughed at Tords enthusiasm and ruffled his hair.

 

“Så Paul og jeg er nå dine fedre, vi må bare fortelle ham nå.”

 

_ Then Paul and I are now your fathers, we just have tell him now. _

 

Tord practically screeched in happiness and scrambled out from under his blankets to wrap his arm around Patryk’s neck in a slightly-too-tight hug. Patryk laughed and hugged him back, but let go when Tord gasped and pulled away to scramble down the ladder when Paul walked in.

 

“Paul! Pat sier at du er min far nå! Dere begge er! Jeg har aldri hatt en far før, men nå har jeg to! Hvis du er begge mine fedre nå, betyr det at du må gifte deg? Du bør gjøre det på et sted i anlegget, som i hengeren! Du skal være en pilot, ikke sant?”

 

_ Paul! Pat says you are my father now! You both are! I've never had a father before but now I have two! If you're both my fathers now, does that mean you have to get married? You should do that on somewhere in the facility, like in the hanger! You're going to be a pilot, right? _

 

Paul looked mildly surprised when Tord started jumping around him, and then confused when he remembered he had no idea what Tord was saying. He then lifted the small boy into his arms and ruffled his hair.

 

“Tord, I love you, but I still have no idea what the fuck you’re saying. Pat, help me out here, why is he this excited?”

 

Patryk walked over to Paul and took Tord from him, blushing slightly since he actually understood what Tord was saying.

 

“Well, we’re pretty much Tord’s fathers now!-” Paul mumbled out what sounded like a ‘No shit’, “-Apparently he never had a father? Or at least never met him. Also, he wants us to get married?” Patryk turned and walked back to their bunk, lifting Tord back onto the top and pulling his blankets back over him. Tord yawned and watched his two new fathers exit the sleeping quarters to talk privately. Tord wished he knew English, he wanted to talk to Paul a lot more. He had been taught some words so that if he got lost, he could get help finding Paul or Patryk. He also knew words so he could tell people he was hungry (‘I want food!’), or wanted to do something (‘I am bored!’), or if he was in pain (‘Something hurts!’).

 

Paul even taught him more swear words, though Tord didn’t know they were swears and just said them randomly around anybody. It was very funny to the other soldiers when the small five year old went right up to Patryk, who was talking to a commanding officer, and said ‘Fuck you’ before running back off to Paul, who thought it was worth it when Pat came up to him later and punched him right in the jaw, knocking him unconscious.

 

Patryk didn’t teach Tord not to swear though, so nobody really complained.

 

***

 

Tord had been living with the the Red Army for only six months when an attack was launched on them from an unknown rebel force. It happened during the hour Paul and Patryk were out on the shooting range, so Tord was all alone in the sleeping quarters when red lights started flashing and deafening alarms made him cover his ears. Something outside made a loud  **_BOOM_ ** , and the entire base shook violently. Tord immediately jumped down from the top bunk and grabbed the special headphones Patryk had given him from their place under the bed, and as soon as he put them on, the alarms became muffled and slightly distant.

 

Tord was terrified. He didn’t know what was happening, and he wanted to find his fathers. He decided to look for them, despite the growing panic in his mind and something telling him to stay where he was. So Tord walked carefully to the door and pulled at the handle.

 

***

 

“Your aim looks like it’s getting a bit off, think you’ll need the scope now?” Paul laughed as Patryk missed the target. Patryk grumbled out his response, trying to focus more.

 

“Not my fault, I have a weird feeling about today but I don’t know what it is, and you’re distracting me.” He stared down the barrel of his rifle at the target he missed. Any other day, he would have no problem shooting without the scope, considering he was one of the best marksmen in the Red Army. Patryk huffed as he shifted the gun and nearly dropped it.

 

_ Today will  _ not  _ be a good day. _

 

“What do you mean you have a weird feeling?” Paul questioned as he loaded a magazine into the pistol he held in his hands. Patryk shrugged.

 

“It’s just one of those days I guess, you know? I’m probably just worrying about Tord. I think we should ask to be relocated to one of the smaller bases near some town? Tord should be in school by now.” Patryk shot at the target again once he finished speaking, this time hitting the center. He finally put his gun down, deciding he had enough training for right now. Paul took this moment to fire all the rounds in his pistol, each bullet hitting the center of the target.

 

“You can keep shooting, I’m going to go check on Tord.” Patryk turned and started walking to the door while Paul reloaded.

 

“Alright, I’ll meet you two for lunch then, yeah?” Patryk smiled and nodded, opening the door and entering the long concrete hallway.

 

He was only halfway to the other end of the hall when the alarms started blaring and an explosion shook the facility. The shock of it knocked Patryk to the floor and made him cover his head when chunks of the ceiling fell to the ground. He immediately stood back up and sprinted to the doors leading outside.

 

_ Why the fuck did they think it was a good idea to have different buildings for everything? _

 

Even sprinting to the building where the sleeping quarters were seemed to take much longer than Patryk would have liked. Looking up into the sky, he could see that they were under attack by missiles. The one that had struck earlier had hit the southern side of the base, closest to his destination.

 

_ Please let Tord be ok. _

 

Entering the building was like entering hell. Smoke and fire had gotten inside from a gaping hole in the wall, and some of the gas pipes in the ceiling had burst, making Patryk cover half of his face with his coat.

 

Other soldiers running out of the building to stay safe looked at Patryk in confusion when they saw him running towards the sleeping quarters, and he just ignored them when they tried to call him back.

 

When he finally reached the door to their room, he didn’t bother opening it with the doorknob, he just kicked to door down and ran in.

 

“Tord! We need to leave, the base is un-”

 

He stopped when he realized Tord wasn’t in the room.

  
_ Oh no. _


	3. Maybe having a five year old on an active duty military base is a bit of a really bad idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its kinda rushed at the end in this chapter? And it just kinda ended abruptly because i really didnt want to make this chapter 2500 words long. Next chapter will have some good feels, some bad feels (hopefully >:3) and some sad tord because i have to emotionally torture at least ONE character. Enjoy my dudes!

“ _ Tord!” _ Patryk called out into the empty hall, choking a little when he inhaled smoke, though he continued his frantic search. After looking down several halls and even into different rooms, Patryk stood still to think for a moment.

 

_ Ok, if I were a five year old and I suddenly heard a bomb or something, where would I want to go? _

 

He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, willing himself to think harder.

 

_ Think like a kid, Pat. I’m young, I know I’m in danger, where would I go?? _

 

Then he remembered the bank. He had found Tord in the bathroom, crying for his mother.

 

_ He must have gone out to look for Paul and I, but he still doesn't know his way to the gun range! _

 

Patryk turned and ran back outside, shielding his face from the smoke flames that had started to almost block out the sky. It made his eyes and throat burn even when he did his best to cover them, but he ignored the pain and ran back to the main building.

 

Before he could even reach the doors, he heard two things: Paul's voice, calling out Tord’s name, and a loud  _ whoosh _ . A second after hearing those, he was blown to the side into a wall as a missile landed behind him.

 

Then everything went black.

 

***

 

For The second time in only a couple months, Tord was terrified. Everything happening reminded him of the what happened at the bank. The fire and smoke made it hard to breathe, and he couldn’t see much of anything, but he needed to find Paul and Patryk. Though he didn’t know how to get into the gun range, or where it was for that matter, so he decided to go to the next best place: the hanger. That's where all the planes and helicopters were, right? And Paul was a pilot, so where else would he be? This was the best option, Tord reasoned, so he limped out of the sleeping quarters as fast as his broken leg would allow, and made his way to the hanger.

 

It wasn’t the easiest walk he had ever gone on. There were soldiers running around and shouting things Tord couldn't understand, and none of them seemed to notice him. They were all preoccupied  moving some big metal things around. He thought back to what Patryk had said about the metal things.

 

*

 

_ “Far, hva er de tingene?”  _

 

Father, what are those things?

 

_ Tord pointed to the corner, where a few surface-to-air missile units were being loaded into the backs of some trucks. _

 

_ “De? Åh, de er ganske som en beskyttelse ting? Noen ganger vil dårlige mennesker forsøke å angripe oss med missiler og raketter, og de brann mindre missiler for å gjøre det slik at ingen blir skadet.” _

 

Those? Oh, they're kinda like a protection thing? Sometimes bad people will try to attack us with missiles and rockets, and those fire smaller missiles to make it so nobody gets hurt.

 

_ Tord looked at them again and grinned. _

 

_ “Kan vi bruke dem?” _

 

Can we use them?

 

_ Patryk shook his head and frowned. _

 

_ “Nei, og jeg håper vi ikke trenger å.” _

 

No, and I hope we don't have to.

 

_ “Men jeg vil bruke dem en dag! Jeg vil beskytte deg som de gjør!” _

 

But I want to use them! I want to protect you like those do!

 

_ “Du er for ung til å beskytte oss, la Paul og jeg gjøre det beskyttende, ok? Du får en sjanse en dag.” _

 

You're too young to protect us, let Paul and I do the protecting, ok? You’ll get your chance one day.

 

*

 

Tord decided he didn’t like the protecting things, because they were shooting things into the sky that hit one that were coming towards the base, and he didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing when one stopped firing.

 

“ _ This one if malfunctioning, everybody take cover! _ ” He couldn’t understand what the soldier shouted, so he stood still while everybody else ran from the object that fell out of the sky.

 

“ _ Tord, no! _ ” He turned when he heard his name and yelped when somebody picked him up and ran towards the inside of the hanger, and realized it was Paul. 

 

“Paul, hva-”

 

_ Paul, what’s- _

 

He was cut off as the object landed next to the main building and burst into fire. Tord saw somebody get thrown away from the explosion and hit a wall, and something about the person looked familiar.

 

Then he knew who it was.

 

“Patryk!  _ Patryk! _ Paul, Patryk er der borte, vi må få ham!”

 

_ Patryk!  _ Patryk!  _ Paul, Patryk is over there, we have to go get him! _

 

Paul looked at where Tord was pointing when he heard Patryk’s name.

 

“Oh no,  _ Pat! _ ” Paul nearly dropped Tord as he skidded to a halt and changed direction towards the (hopefully not dead) body. Setting Tord down on the ground that wasn’t burning, Paul crouched next to Patryk, swiping small flames on his jacket out.

 

“Oh, God, please be alive, I can’t lose you, please wake up.” Tord watched as Paul frantically shook the taller man, pressing two fingers to the side of his neck when he didn’t respond. He let out a sigh of relief when he found a faint pulse and lifted Patryk into his arms.

 

“Let’s go Tord, Pat needs help.”

 

Despite Tord not understanding his father, he followed anyways.

 

***

 

The attack had stopped, and cleanup was rough. The med bay was packed with soldiers unlucky enough to be caught in some explosions, and many had even died. 

 

There wasn’t space for visitors the first couple days, so Paul had to keep Tord out of trouble somehow considering their language barrier. It wasn’t too hard surprisingly, they just kept to their usual schedule. When the med bay cleared up a bit, Paul took Tord to see Patryk.

 

It was hard for Paul to look directly at his friend, there were IVs and wires poking out of his arms, he was pretty badly burned, and his breathing was slightly shaky. He was asleep though, and didn’t wake when Paul and Tord entered the room til Tord yelled out “ _ Far! _ ”, and launched himself towards the bed, though Paul held him back.

 

“Tord, shush! He’s sleeping!”

 

“That’s a lie, I’m now wide awake thanks to you two.” Paul heard Patryk laugh and looked up. Tord quickly scrambled away from Paul and climbed up next to Patryk.

 

“Far! hvor var du? Jeg hørte disse høye lydene, og jeg var redd, og da far fant meg så jeg at du ble skadet! Hva var det som falt fra himmelen?”

 

_ Father! Where were you? I heard these loud sounds and I was scared and when father found me I saw you get hurt! What were the things falling from the sky? _

 

“Rolig ned Tord, du snakker fort, og jeg er fortsatt sliten og med litt smerte. Ett spørsmål om gangen takk.”

 

_ Calm down Tord, you’re talking too fast, and I’m still tired and in pain. One question at a time please. _

 

Paul watched as the two interacted, then walked over to Patryk’s other side.

 

“Pat, you two can keep talking, I need to find Boss real quick and ask him something.” Patryk stopped his conversation with Tord to respond.

 

“Oh, alright. Come back when you’re done? I’d like to talk to you alone at some point.” Paul nodded and quickly hugged Patryk. They smiled at eachother before Paul turned and left.

 

Finding Boss wasn’t hard, he was directing the cleanup crew and his voice echoed through the base.

 

“Boss! We need to talk about what happened the other day.” Paul called across the expanse of cement the base was built over.

 

“There’s not much to talk about, we got attacked, med got hurt and even died, the attack stopped. If it’s not important, you're on cleanup crew for the next month.” Boss turned to face him, and Paul took a deep breath to give him an extra second to think of how he would phrase his next words.

 

“Sir, I don’t question your choice of where you station your soldiers or how much danger you’re willing to put them in, and I know many soldiers already died, but Patryk almost died and we’re technically now parents to Tord, I think it would be best if we were relocated.” Paul fidgeted as he spoke, and he hesitantly continued when Boss didn’t respond.

 

“Every member of the Red Army pledged their life when they joined, and understood that they could die at any moment in this army. But Tord doesn’t even understand the concept of death yet, fuck, he doesn’t even know his mother is dead! Pat and I just want him to be safe and happy, maybe get him into school soon. We’ve already talked about this, and we both think it would be the best option.” He finished and met Boss’s stare. It was hard to read his emotions, but Paul thought he saw slight anger and relief?

 

Boss finally responded.

 

“If the child doesn’t know what death is, it’s your own fault for not telling him. I will consider your relocation, but cleanup is top priority right now. I expect you will not bother me with any of this again. You are dismissed.” Boss turned and walked away, shouting orders at other soldiers.

 

_ Well, that's progress? _

 

Paul sighed and started his walk back to the med bay. It was nearly dark out, almost time for Tord to go to bed, so he figured that he and Patryk would talk after he accomplished the task that was getting Tord to actually sleep.

 

He didn’t have to do much though. As he entered the room Patryk was staying in, he was met with the sight that was Patryk softly humming to a nearly asleep Tord. Paul felt like he could cry. Patryk smiled when Paul walked in and stopped humming.

 

“You here to take the gremlin? Because my arm is falling asleep.” He talked quietly so Tord wouldn’t wake up. Paul nodded and walked over, lifting Tord into his arms carefully.

 

“Yeah, I’ll get him settled in for the night, be back in a moment.” He carried their son back to their room and laid him down on his bed. He didn’t even protest, and Paul was pretty sure he was asleep already.

 

When Paul returned to the med bay, Patryk was dozing off slightly, but he woke up when Paul shook his shoulder.

 

“Do you want to talk or sleep, because you're looking pretty tired right now.” Paul laughed and Patryk swatted his hand away.

 

“Shut up, I still want to talk because it’s just a topic we’ve never covered and I think now would be a good time to talk about it.” Patryk moved to the left side of the bed to make room for Paul, who kicked off his boots and slid in next to him.

 

“Alright, what's the topic?”

  
“Us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ive never been to a bank or a hospital, excuse any inaccuracies I may write.


End file.
